Two decades later, my father, an engineering graduate in a newly independent India, decided that exciting industrial projects were beginning in places far, far away from his village (which he does agree was a village) and went to join the dam construction projects, modeled after the US' TVA. Typically, it took him four to five days from the time he left the village and reached his bachelor quarters. Upon reaching, he penned a letter that typically took five to seven days to reach grandma.
My father and grandfather did not even pause to think that these were nightmarish conditions. After all, had they thought that way, they would not have ventured out at all to places far, far away from their homes. Often alone by themselves. In places where the language, foods, and almost every aspect of culture was different from what they were used to.
Now, we live in a world that is hyperconnected. We Facebook where we are, what we eat, what we do, where we travel. We tweet where we are, what we eat, what we do, and where we travel. We Instagram where we are, what ... well, you get my point.
Loneliness is no longer a part of life anymore, it seems. To such an extent is the transformation that we easily think that any individual who is a loner is up to some kind of a mischief, a la the unabomber. I should know, given the number of times the police have barged into my home because the neighbors complained about my solitary existence. Nah, I am kidding. Well, kidding about the police, that is--they always brought doughnuts ;)
Loneliness makes us think about life and our own place in this universe. In the old country, those bent on this inquiry went into the forests so that they could be alone to contemplate about existence. Of course, such meditation was in the contexts of god and prayers, but there was a conviction that loneliness helps.
If we are hyper-connected, then when do we have the time to think about our own existence? This atheist agrees with those who worry about it even if from a religious framework:
Silence and seclusion are harder to find, and fewer people seek them out. You find a lone bench in the park on a fall afternoon, gaze up at the sky through the branches, and begin the Rosary only to have a power walker march by barking into an invisible mic. It’s not just the noise, it’s his connection to absent persons, as if to say that being in one place alone with the Lord is insufficient.
Yep, even when we are alone, we are no longer alone, it seems.
Social media is the culprit. Texting, selfies, updates, chats, snapchats, tweets, multiplayer games, blogs, wikis, and email enable people to gossip, boast, rant, strategize, self-promote, share, collaborate, inform, emote, and otherwise connect with one another anywhere and all the time. The volume is astounding. Earlier this year, Facebook boasted 1.23 billion active users, while late last year Twitter’s 200 million users sent 400 million tweets per day. According to Nielsen Media, a teen with a mobile device sends or receives on average around 3,300 text messages per month, in addition to logging 650 minutes of phone calls.
Those habits, which researchers term “hypersociality,” dominate leisure time. Data analyst Bill Tancer found in 2008 that social media had passed pornography as the most popular type of search. The whole range of fallen human motives passes through the tools, but the prime one is, precisely, “I want not to be alone.”
There is something seriously wrong, don't you think, when all these decades of "education" has only led us to how we are afraid to be alone because, if alone we might have to think about important questions like who we are and why we exist?
People awash in social media can’t get past the paradox that the best salve for loneliness is properly applied alone. They look for answers in added connections, and more-emotional ones, but God isn’t a closer contact and better friend. He transcends the social, and you must seek him beyond the medium of “share” and “like.” In solitary prayer, the secular pleasures dissipate and the successes of social media melt into nothingness. You drop your social self.
My grandfather and father used their alone time to reflect on life. They read, listened to music, and communed with their gods. This atheist believes that was a far better existence than the current way of being afraid of inquiring about the human condition itself.
Maybe I am nothing but an old soul trapped in a younger body and living in digital age. But, surely there is more to life than posting a Facebook status update, right?
|Source: seriously, you can't recognize this as from the New Yorker? ;)|